Kosmospolizei
by Ona Ralgold
Summary: A team of corrupt interstellar policemen are called in to investigate cosmic disturbances in the Whoniverse-someone's trying to punch a hole the fabric of spacetime. Can they fix it with the help of Torchwood, or is the Whoniverse doomed to nonexistence?
1. Anomaly

**HAY GUYZ. This is my first time writing Torchwood fanfiction, but don't be gentle in your reviews. Sucky writing is sucky. I know a lot of people have problems with alien OCs--they're either impossibly beautiful, improbable plot devices, really flat characters, or some combo of the three. My OCs are none of the above. They aren't good guys...at least not in the traditional sense. They're insensitive, lascivious, and superficial and there's ALWAYS an ulterior motive. **

**This is a Torchwood/Doctor Who crossover by the way, because it was the only way I could add the Master as a character. The 10th, 11th, or 12th Doctor may show up as I see fit. HUGH LAURIE FOR 12!**

**The numbers underneath the name for each journal entry are relevant to the story. Cookies if you can figure them out.**

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Heloise [Héloïse Jernigan]  
Entry 0001  
[AFLC787-Sol 3] 20090531 225336

\begin transmission\

//The human race is a marvelous anomaly.

//For starters, we seem to be uneradicable. Funny, considering we feel the same about cockroaches. Anyway, it's not for lack of trying: great floods, fire raining down from the heavens, nuclear winters, alien invasions--especially alien invasions. It's like there's one every Christmas in one of the parallel timelines, and it's bloody annoying. (Excuse my Britishisms.) Speaking of Britishisms, why are all the attacks in either London or Cardiff? I'd like to think that the United States of bloody fucking America had something worth blowing to bits in that timeline, too. Of course, you aliens are welcome to destroy England first. Old rotters still, I bet, the lot of them.

//Secondly, it seems like half the alien races we meet in those timelines speak OUR language and look like US. Nice to know that English--which is a purely human language and don't you dare try and feed me that stable time loop tripe about ancient astronauts--is spoken all over the galaxy. And as far as appearance, my general rule is that if Harkness can screw it, it's humanoid on some level. (Don't ask me how I know him; I'd really rather not go into the whole Sidestepping thing.) That said, why would half the races in the universe converge onto this one race? Is it even convergence, though? Or is it divergence from a single, basic template?

//It's the last possibility that scares me the most. Why do Time Lords, a race from a totally different galaxy in a distant sector of the universe, look identical to humans? Age in an identical fashion, regeneration aside? If you're a believer of evolution, two hearts and a respiratory bypass can be explained away as a freak mutation somewhere along the line that DIDN'T result in an infant mortality. If you don't, well, that's okay, because I don't and I'm still convinced that there's a piece of the puzzle I'm missing: why were we created so similarly, virtually identical?

//Why do they look like us?

//Why do they come to us?

//Why is it that human DNA can serve as the basic drawing board for all kinds of additions, subtractions, augmentations, and specializations?

//Why is it that, in the end, it always comes down to us? We, who thought we were alone in the universe, suddenly find its fate in our clumsy, ignorant hands and are left awed and amazed and honestly scared shitless.

//We are the crux, the joint, the clasp where the balance of Order and Chaos hangs. We, naturally selfish and fearful and hateful, have to Judge, to Decide and hope that this is all one big cosmic joke or else one hell of a Xanatos Gambit in our favor.

//Not all universes have the Doctor to save them.

//Not all universes have openly malicious threats. All it would take in one might be a Coriolis disaster in the Large Hadron Collider, the optimal conditions fostering a black hole that could swallow the planet, the Sol system, the galaxy, annd perhaps ultimately the universe in NO TIME AT ALL.

//Eh, I might be getting melo, but wierder shit has happened. I think. Actually, I know. (Harkness.)

//At any rate, I just want to know WHY? Why so much sameness in a universe that naturally leans towards entropy? Why so many coincidences, so many lucky breaks, so many close shaves?

//I have an inkling that there's something larger lurking behind all of this: all the multiple universes and their links and their inhabitants.

//I keep having nightmares about the phrase "Bad Wolf". I don't know what it is, but I've gone through the all the International Space Station archives, and nothing comes up. The dreams positively reek of "othersideness" and I'm pretty damn sure they're from a parallel world leaking into ours. While it's definitely Darker and Edgier than anything our universe tends to dredge up, it's not the kind of adventure I look for when I Sidestep.

//All I know is that I have a strange feeling about this. It's something I need to look into, for the sake of my own existence.

//All I can hope is that "Bad Wolf" has nothing to do with that damned Doctor: everything he touches withers and dies, and I refuse to die on a technicality.

\end transmission\


	2. Wrong

**So there's some strong language in here. Get over it. Review. Plz.**

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Heloise [Héloïse Jernigan]  
Entry 0002 [Sol 3] 20100602 205444

\begin transmission\

//There is a pervading sense of wrongness here.

//The Alphaverse, my root timeline, doesn't feel like anything, kind of like how you can't smell your own house or clothes. The Neuterverse, characterized by a distinct lack of aliens, superpowers, and, most disturbingly, a version of me, is kind of like your best friend's house--a little different, but generally comfortable.

//The Whoniverse makes me want to vomit violently. It's like your house after Pyramid Head crashes the Christmas party. And then throws his own among the wreckage with Krueger, Jason, and Jigsaw.

//Most of it is because the Whoniverse is a giant clusterfuck magnet. Broken timelines, doubled timelines, reversed timelines, stable time loops, degenerate time loops, multiple existences, zeroed existences, fixed points, constant-flux points, random flux points, nonpoints: it's a chronographer's nightmare on acid. The rest of it is because this is where Caesar is from, and Caesar just spells trouble.

//Caesar was a Time Lord in a past life and demands that we call him "the Master." (We don't.) After removing the self-aggrandizing lies from the story he told us and doing a bit of my own research, I confirmed that he was indeed a Time Lord. How he ended up in the Alphaverse...I have my theories, but nothing solid. At any rate, he's just human now--a jerkass and irritatingly clever human, but a human nonetheless. It'd take a massive amount of life force to permanently convert him--about one adult, half a baby, or a handful of old people. Eh.

//Nothing we couldn't hook him up with in an instant, but I don't need some special-ops 5-0 bullshit SWAT squad at my door looking for a missing hobo, thanks.

//So. It's me, Caesar, and the Irreverend. In this very wrong place--which for the first time, has nothing to do with the Irreverend. The first day, Caesar made himself scarce in Who-Earth Cardiff 2008 while the Irreverend held my hair out of my face as I puked in some dark, ancient alley (and casually fondled my ass, but this IS the Irreverend.) The second day, today, we search for the Doctor.

//Of course, Caesar doesn't know that we're searching for him; he'd shit bricks if we did. All he knows is that we're being sent on an ISS-sponsored mission I'm captaining to rendezvous with another team, same as the Irreverend.

//We reach the Roald Dahl Plass at around noon.

//"Do your little dildo thing, Caesar," drawls the Irreverend.

//Caesar shoots him a dirty look (they've always hated each other) and pulls out his laser screwdriver. He claims to have had one in his past life, but that got left behind and this he built from scrap metal and memory. It's twice as effective as the old, if he can be believed. He jiggles around with it a bit, then holds it high and turns it on. All of a sudden, the perception filter around the base glows and we run to the lift. Another jiggle, and the perception filter is restored before the general public is any the wiser.

//We leap onto the lift and commence the descent. It's dark and silent. Odd, you'd think they'd have a--

//"Silent alarm, fool," Caesar whispers, sneering. Hm, I didn't think my face was that transparent. We hit the bottom and get out. "Let's move."

//"So who's on this other team? And why haven't they come out to greet us? I'm starting to think you lied to us, Leesy." The Irreverend's blue eyes glint dangerously as we make our way into what appears to be an empty control room.

//"I didn't lie to you, Base did." I shrug.

//Both Caesar and the Irreverend freeze in their tracks. I keep walking for a few paces, then pause, calling over my shoulder, "Coming, boys?"

//Suddenly, a great big I-don't-know-what-the-fuck-it-is comes swooping out of nowhere, cawing like it's on fire. A second later, it lies on the ground, neck snapped. Sometimes I don't hate the Irreverend so much-this is one of those times.

//"A pterodactyl?" I muse aloud, as if we weren't breaking and entering a place like Torchwood and we totally had the time to deal with dinosaur corpses.

//"Fuck the lizard," Caesar spits harshly. "Why are we here?" The slightly hysterical note in his voice warns me that I should probably start reaching for my holster.

//The Irreverend roughly shoves me up against the wall, his hand gripping my shoulder also painfully. "Care to explain this mission, Lizzy?"

//"Yeah, Lizzy, explain the mission," drawls an identical voice, and the three of us freeze.

//Five secret-agent-looking people are standing at the top of a nearby staircase. One male with a fishy sort of mouth is doing a great impression of a dying halibut, but the rest--including a VERY cute young man who I just bet is gay, knowing my luck with blokes--are staring down at us and completely succeeding at scaring us senseless.

\end transmission\

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**Green button guyz. **

**\/**


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